When you can't see the bluebells 

There's cleary something wrong

Possibly something terribly wrong

If you miss the bluebells 

Your life has passed you by

My favourite flower, my favourite time

Normally waited for, longed for, at winters end

This year only spotted as they hung their heads towards their demise 

That too, almost missed

Why so, too much on, tunnelled vision ...

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I've been waiting for spring for a long, long time. These March and April are very cold. There are no blossoms near my house.
I am reading a lot of poems to feel spring.
Today I read a charming verse by James Henry Leigh Hunt. It is called May and the Poets.
«There is May in books forever»...
That's so true!
What is your favorite poem about springtime? I'd like to read it.
 

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Snowy night in
The early spring—
Winter heavy upon
My memories—
I see your figure
Approaching in the dark,
A silhouette in the snow
Against the lantern lights.
Inside, the house is warm,
Though I stand below the lintel
Watching your approach and
Feeling the chilly breeze.
The sight of you
After the long season
Of longing separation
Brings a smile to my heart.

You hesitate in the ...

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